Amaya Gurpide

How did you get into making art?

One of my earliest vivid memories is of my father drawing a portrait of my brother. He stood at his easel observing him closely, tracing the contour of his face with such precision that he seemed to breathe life into the paper. I was only four years old, yet in that moment, my whole little world was filled with a sense of wonder and meaning.  

It never occurred to me that this was something one could do for a living. I became obsessed with drawing and the idea of translating life into art. As an introverted child, drawing became my language. 

Navigating my educational path wasn’t straightforward until a teacher suggested I attend the local art school in my town. There, I was introduced to drawing, painting, sculpture, photography, and art history. Those formative years provided me with a solid technical foundation and a deep love for art. After graduating, I had the fortune to meet a talented painter who had trained at some of New York City’s most prestigious figurative schools. He became my mentor, and eventually, I moved to New York to further my art education. I received tremendous support from my schools and teachers, including numerous grants and scholarships that helped fund my education and living expenses. This support enabled me to have some of the most enriching experiences of my student years. 

What are you currently working on?

At the moment I’m developing a new body of work for a two-person exhibition with my husband at The Bo Bartlett Center in Columbus, Georgia, scheduled for 2025. I have several pieces in the works, some of them are in process and others are still concept drawings or thumbnail sketches that I continually revise.

A year ago, I began a monumental painting on paper mounted on panel featuring two larger-than-life figures. This piece explores themes of existence and transience. 
Time is not a concern when I’m working on a piece, but capturing a tangible sense of presence. I push my work to evoke this feeling intensely. In this painting, two nude figures, with their faces obscured, inhabit a dark room illuminated by a single pendant light, creating a visual tension and unfolding a narrative of an internal dialogue about life, meaning, and the complexities of the human experience. 

In recent years, I’ve been experimenting with a variety of surfaces and materials. Like fresco painting, where the artwork is embedded in a wall of plaster, I believe in the idea that a piece is born from within the surface. I prepare my surfaces with layers of texture using materials and pigments I’ve collected and plan how the image will emerge and interact with the surface.
 
I’ve just completed a mixed media piece as a result of this experimentation, titled “Yugo”. A self-portrait with an oversized collar around my neck, reminiscent of the Spanish Old Masters like Zurbaran. The work explores the concept of carrying one’s life experiences and their significance.

What inspired you to get started on this body of work?

Since the birth of my child eight years ago and the recent loss of family members, I’ve encountered both the beginning and the end of life—opposing yet equally profound forces that have deeply shaped my work. These experiences have pushed me to explore more personal and complex narratives, commanding a dialogue that delves into the questions and emotions life’s extremes evoke. In recent years, my work has shifted from simply depicting reality to translating lived experiences, seeking to express those aspects of existence that words fail to articulate.

During the pandemic, my father’s sudden decline into dementia led me to explore this illness in my work. In my recent piece, “Portrait of My Father (With Dementia),” I used the metaphor of fading memory to create a multi-layered gessoed panel. The artwork portrays my father’s image with his eyes closed, gradually merging into the support, symbolizing the loss of presence and identity.

These experiences have motivated me to explore the intersection between my personal narrative and human consciousness, seeking to uncover new layers of meaning in my art. By grappling with these deeper questions, I hope my work will reflect a universal truth and evolve into a narrative that resonates on both individual and collective levels.

Do you work on distinct projects or do you take a broader approach to your practice?

I generally work on multiple pieces simultaneously. Unless I’m focused on a large project that demands all my physical and mental energy, I find the interplay between different works alleviates the pressure and expectations that can arise from dedicating all my efforts to a single piece.

To visualize and sustain my projects while working on others, I’ve set up a ‘wall of references’ in my studio. This wall is a collage of random images and quotes that serves as a visual compost. I believe that many of the decisions we make in our work are influenced by the accumulated ‘DNA’ of our experiences. For that reason, the broader the spectrum of images we collect in our brain, the richer and more complex our vision will be. Constant exposure to these visual stimuli helps me connect them, identify common threads, and sometimes inspire new concepts in drawing or painting.

“In the studio, I have several sketchbooks where I collect thoughts and concept drawings before they slip my mind. I constantly review these sketches and ideas, scrutinizing them to ensure they are strong enough before I translate them into finished drawings or paintings.”

What’s a typical day like in your studio?

Being an artist and a mother requires self-discipline and careful strategizing to make the most of my time in the studio. Balancing these roles demands efficient planning and focused effort to ensure that both my artistic practice and family responsibilities are managed well. 

I begin my day by carefully assessing the strengths and weaknesses of my work. I approach this with a critical eye, detaching myself emotionally to understand what is essential in conveying the concept of each piece. Editing is one of my favorite parts of the creative process. I find that the beginning of the day in the studio is crucial for me in judging my work objectively. I examine everything from various angles to test its strength, take notes, and then work with a clear task in mind.

I have four essential tasks that I aim to complete at the end of the day: An objective analysis of the work in progress; the execution of the particular area I’m aiming to improve and develop in the work; engaging in reading and research, both technical and conceptual (I have books scattered all over the floor in my studio for reference); and, finally, after cleaning my brushes, exercising in front of my ‘wall of references’ to stretch my body after work, keep my mind active, and hopefully spark new ideas.

Who are your favorite artists?

I love exploring the parallels between different disciplines and how they integrate art into their practices. Engaging visually and intellectually with various forms of artistic expression fascinates me, whether they come from the art world or other fields like filmmaking, photography, writing, or music.
What attracts me most is observing their creative processes. I’m fascinated by the intricacies of their ideas, how they solve their challenges, and how their concepts materialize into films, books or music. There’s an underlying thread that connects us as creative minds, and I draw from this shared essence to uncover the core of my own ideas.

Among filmmakers, I find the works of Andrei Tarkovsky, David Lynch, and Yorgos Lanthimos to name a few, particularly inspiring for their imaginative approaches and emphasis on visual storytelling to convey narrative and emotion. I keep an essay by Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset, titled “Velázquez,” on hand to delve into his analytical approach to art. One of my favorite books about the creative process is “The Creative Act: A Way of Being” by Rick Rubin.
In music, I love the emotional depth of Baroque music, particularly the works of Handel and Bach, and the musical narrative of Romantic composers like Rachmaninoff.
Sally Mann’s and Gregory Crewdson’s documentaries are great to watch or listen to while working. Both push their work to the highest level with so much integrity.

I always return to Velázquez for his technical simplicity and humanity, Käthe Kollwitz for her emotional connection, Anselm Kiefer for his visceral plasticity, and Goya for his portrayal of life’s absurdity and hidden meanings. Reflecting on their work helps me refine my own techniques and understand my artistic choices. This exchange fuels my creativity and expands my perspective, deeply enriching my artistic practice.

Where do you go to discover new artists?

The Team Deakins Podcast has been a great companion in the studio. I enjoy traveling abroad to visit museums featuring both Old Masters and contemporary art. I spend time researching online, but as a book addict, I also love visiting bookstores and libraries around the world. Reading about artists’ lives often leads me to discover connections with other contemporary artists.